


In the dark

by mcfuck



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, M/M, Pastfic, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Tent Sex, Unresolved Romantic Tension, half assed aftercare, partially resolved sexual tension, rastas horny and zuls a good friend, they almost get caught but its fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 16:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16519754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcfuck/pseuds/mcfuck
Summary: This was a mutually beneficial agreement. Stress relief in its purest, most primal form, nothing more than a quick rut in the dark, civilized trolls satisfying uncivilized desires quickly and efficiently. Nothing more.





	In the dark

**Author's Note:**

> zul's a dumb bottom and rastakhan doesn't talk about his emotions
> 
> 12/22/18: heads up, im editing this, eventually itll be replaced w/ a New Improved version
> 
> 1/19/19: edited
> 
> 8/13/19: edited

It was such a tiny thing- Rastakhan’s tusks bracketing his neck, lips pressed to his nape- but it felt so deeply intimate.

More eager than he would like to admit, Zul opened his legs wider, waiting impatiently for Rastakhan to fill him.

“Ready?” Rastakhan asked.

“Fuck me,” Zul snarled.

The head of Rastakhan's cock, hot and slick, rubbed against his hole, painting a sticky trail of precum against his skin. It pressed insistently against the tight ring of muscle until it yielded, and slipped in.

A hand, gentle but firm, covered Zul’s mouth, offering a finger for him to bite down on. He sunk his teeth into it viciously, hips rocking forward to rub himself against the bedroll beneath him as Rastakhan eased his way inside.

Rastakhan’s powerful body pressed to his back, covering him more completely than any blanket ever would, _warmer_ than any blanket ever would be. Zul’s grunts were muffled by the finger between his teeth, the taste of blood sharp on his tongue, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight, reveling in the ache of being stretched wider than ever before, so full he could hardly breathe.

Then Rastakhan started to move. Slow, shallow strokes, more of a grind than really fucking him, but it was enough. He grasped Zul’s hip, holding him steady.

“Alright?” Rastakhan asked, voice breathless and rough with want. Feeling almost giddy, Zul nodded.

He was limp and pliant beneath the larger troll, easily surrendering to Rastakhan's careful strength. Zul hesitated to describe Rastakhan's behavior as dominant- he was too cautious, too unsure. It was something that would undoubtedly occupy Zul's thoughts later that night.

The king's hips thudded against his ass with every short, powerful thrust, a muffled slap of skin-on-skin, sweat-slick bodies sliding against each other.

It was unbearably humid beneath the blankets, but Zul thought of nothing but Rastakhan: his bruising grip on his waist- his hot breath against his neck- his thick cock, as magnificent as the rest of him- his grunts of pleasure in Zul’s ear- his growl that Zul felt before he heard, resonating through his barrel chest.

Startling Zul out of his reverie, the hand over his mouth abruptly grabbed him tighter, all but smothering him as armored footsteps wandered past the tent. “Be you well, my king? You sound… winded.”

Rastakhan cursed. “It be nothing, Zolani. Let me rest.” Zul was impressed by the steadiness of his voice- he never could've pulled that off.

“Did you have Zul take a look at it?”

Zul's body shook with repressed laughter. “Zul is- tending to it now. I be in good hands.”

“Of course, my king.”

The footsteps grew fainter and fainter, and Rastakhan breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he could no longer hear Zolani making her rounds. Zul pushed his hips back impatiently, urging Rastakhan to start moving again.

Each stroke pressed against Zul’s sweet spot again and again, forcing moan after helpless moan through his gritted teeth. Warmth like molten gold pooled in the pit of his gut and spread outward, to the tips of his toes, making his body spasm and tremble, his embarrassing groans and grunts deep and guttural. The tension building within him was quickly becoming too much to bear, like a rubber band drawn tighter and tighter until it could be pulled no further, ready to snap.

Wicked teeth grazed the nape of Zul's neck as if threatening to bite, to sink sharp fangs deep in tender flesh, to scar him, mark him, _claim_ him-

Zul reached his peak unaided by Rastakhan’s hand or his own, his shout muffled by the finger clamped between his teeth, every muscle drawn taut and straining for a few perfect moments, then relaxing again, all at once, leaving him spent and shivering beneath his king.

Rastakhan slipped out of Zul with a soft, wet noise, grinding his slick length against Zul’s ass while Zul whined and shivered when it rubbed his stretched, puffy hole. Zul didn’t have much ass to grind against, but it seemed to be enough for Rastakhan, his great bulk shifting, hips rolling. The sounds that Rastakhan made as he found his end seared themselves into Zul’s memory, echoing in his ears. He could feel the wet heat of Rastakhan's pleasure on his back.

Even the gentlest touch of Rastakhan’s shaking fingers against Zul’s skin felt like being burned alive, every nerve a live wire, but Rastakhan kept touching him, stroking his oversensitive body until he stopped shaking so hard, until each ragged gasp didn’t sound quite so much like a sob.

The hand on his mouth released him, and he could feel dark bruises forming where Rastakhan had gripped him too hard. He touched the marks gingerly, reverently- they would heal quickly, but a small part of Zul wanted them to linger. He felt as if he had been branded by his king.

A soft, damp cloth touched Zul’s back, wiping away the remnants of their tryst, and Zul found himself wishing that Rastakhan had spilled inside him. The mere thought of it, much less the fact that he _wanted_ it, made his face burn, skin flushed a livid shade of red from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

It was truly a challenge to resist the urge to arch into Rastakhan’s hand like a contented cat as it came to rest at his lower back. “You be alright, Zul?” Rastakhan rumbled, his voice low and sonorous.

This was a mutually beneficial agreement, Zul reassured himself. Stress relief in its purest, most primal form, nothing more than a quick rut in the dark, civilized trolls satisfying uncivilized desires quickly and efficiently.

But, as Rastakhan’s rough palm, warm and gentle, rubbed his back, Zul couldn't help but wonder if it could be more.

He closed his eyes, thinking of how deeply he would sleep with that voice, like distant thunder, soft but _powerful_ , whispering “goodnight” in his ear each sunset. He nodded.

More hesitantly, Rastakhan asked, “Was it good for you?”

Zul bit his lip. “Yes, it- it was good,” he said, mortified by how he tripped over his words. He wanted to yank the blankets over his head and hide, and it took a heroic amount of effort to stop himself from doing so.

“I- good. It was good for me, too,” Rastakhan admitted, pulling the blankets carefully over Zul’s exhausted body. “Thank you, my friend.” With an awkward pat to the shoulder, he retreated to his side of the tent.

Zul was alone.

After several minutes of slow, careful breathing, Zul managed to roll onto his side. He flipped the pillow over, resting his cheek against the blissfully cool fabric, and he sighed. Then he sighed again, because it felt good to quietly vent his jumbled emotions: satisfaction, exhaustion, frustration- an aching loneliness that he felt deep in his bones, and even deeper in his heart.

Cold and sweaty, Zul wiggled into a more comfortable position, his extra pillow wedged between the side of the tent and his back for him to lean on. Though he was drained of energy, fucked out and weary and sore, he would not sleep easy. Zul gazed at his king across the tent, whose broad back was turned to him, and longed for what he could not have.

**Author's Note:**

> i dont like how this turned out but i feel like id be betraying the zul/rasta fandom if i didn't post it


End file.
